Nearly 30 years ago, I was walking with my father. I was absolutely fuming. My wife and I had had an argument, and I was ranting – full of righteous indignation. After letting me go on for longer than most would have tolerated my carping, my father stopped and turned to me to ask two questions. First: “Are you through?” When I responded in the affirmative, he asked, “Why does this matter to you?” I remember thinking, “Haven’t you been paying attention?” Instead, I simply said, “I’m right,” and so, by extension, I believed she was wrong. Again, my father demonstrated the patience that I loved in him. He replied that, even if I was right, why did the issue we were fighting about matter. He encouraged me not to answer the question. “Just think about it while we walk.” For the next few blocks, I stewed on the question. I will admit that, for the first block or so, my righteous indignation won, but then something shifted. I started to think about the issue at the root of the initial argument. I have no recollection of what it was, but I do recall thinking that my father was on to something. The issue wasn’t nearly as important as I had made it. I had allowed my ego to produce an emotion-driven response to a relatively minor disagreement. No – this is not an article about marital harmony. My father’s question works in any relationship where conflict or contention plays a role. For most people, our work is fraught with conflicts and disagreements, and many times these situations turn unproductive because we allow ourselves to get sucked into arguments that don’t matter. Don’t get me wrong, there are many things that are worth fighting for and about. My point is that we typically waste our energy on the wrong things. We fail to recognize what matters. There are so many layers to the question, “Why does this matter?” Some are obvious: Some are less obvious, but potentially more relevant in terms of our emotional response: These are just a few of the angles to consider when we begin digging into the original question. I do not believe anyone can or should run through a long list of questions to determine whether they should or should not take a stand when an issue emerges. Rather, I am advocating for a deliberate response versus an instinctive response. When we force ourselves to stop (or even slow down) to examine why something is bothering us and to discern why it matters, we take a critical step in derailing unhealthy and unproductive emotional responses. This slight pause gives us the opportunity to respond deliberately and powerfully. One situation may compel us to take an immediate and firm stance while another may lead us to ignore the issue, and others may elicit something in between these extremes. Imagine a colleague with whom you have a healthy and slightly competitive relationship takes an action that benefits him but puts one of your projects in jeopardy. You learn about this in a large meeting with some important stakeholders, including your boss and the sponsor of the impacted project. Early in my career, my instinctive response would have been to get angry and go on the attack, creating a contentious situation and forcing a rash decision to resolve the issue. Instead, when we ask, “Why does this matter?” we may recognize that the best course of action is to take the issue offline and resolve it privately, or we may decide that immediate and decisive action is required. This moment of discernment is where the deeper questions listed above may come into play. We assess the urgency and the importance of a situation and act accordingly. Depending on how we answer these questions, we may accept the short-term disappointment or frustration of our stakeholders to preserve an important relationship. Conversely, we may decide that the risk is too great to wait, so we may confront the issues immediately and directly. Regardless of the choice, the act of slowing down and responding deliberately increases the probability of achieving our desired outcome. Those who know me well are likely to see in my example that the practice of asking why something matters is more of an aspiration than a habit. I am still too quick to go on the offensive when I feel threatened or slighted. However, I have come to learn that often the only thing being threatened is my ego. Developing this awareness has allowed me to take a response that is rooted in my core values rather than defensive reflex.
By Sage Moran A colleague once told me the definition of bureaucratic is “when the form is more important than what is written on it.” We’ve all experienced that type of officiousness when someone tells us that they would like to help, but because we failed to follow some silly rule or jump some inane hurdle, we are out of luck. Think of the movie Office Space when the protagonist gets chastised for failing to put a cover sheet on his TPS report. There is nothing more frustrating when we run into this type of rigidity. I don’t believe that anyone intends to be overly rigid. No one wakes up and says, “I think I will be a bureaucratic jerk today.” Most people want to do a good job, which usually requires rigor and discipline. So, what causes us to slip from rigorous to rigid? When an individual has passion, dedication, personal investment, or experience in a particular situation, they may find themself standing a bit more firmly in their perspectives, especially if the stakes are high or time is limited. These attributes can be substantial strengths in tackling the tasks at hand, but firmness has the potential to be a limiting factor when it manifests as rigidity. Instead of rigidity, it may be more beneficial to practice rigor in order to maintain a growth mindset in navigating the challenges we confront. To do so, we must ask ourselves: How do we define rigidity and recognize it in ourselves in the workplace? Turning to a dictionary, “rigidity” and “rigor” are tied together, holding very similar definitions and appearing as synonyms not only for each other but for “firmness” as well. However, the socially established and agreed-upon understandings for workplace environments and academic institutions mark the terms as linked but distinctly counter to one another. As a whole, the difference comes down to a fixed mindset versus a growth mindset. In the fixed mindset, rigid attachment to one’s perspective often arises from fear or a need for control and leads to reduced growth and the repetition of old patterns. Holding tightly to particular ideas, rigid individuals may behave in ways that reflect stiffness or brittleness, resistance to change, and a need to be “right.” As a result, in approaching challenges, they may exhibit low imagination in identifying solutions or opting for those that present the lowest risk. Doing so reveals the way in which rigidity may be driven by fear, as the individual chooses the familiar or the comfortable to avoid real or perceived failure. They may become attached to and fixed on the options that provide the surest path to their personal success. Insecurity can lead to a high degree of focus on their individual performance as well as emotional reactivity should they feel inadequate or challenged. When an individual’s firmness becomes rigidity, they not only inhibit their personal growth and the growth of their organizations, but they also place themselves at great risk for burnout from the emotional toll and stress. However, an individual with strong feelings about a particular situation can avoid a fixed mindset by practicing growth through rigor. As opposed to fear- or control-driven rigidity, the driving factors in rigor are the individual’s and the workplace’s shared values. The key difference between being rigid and being rigorous is the individual’s commitment to firm practices (rigidity) or to firm values (rigor). When determining how to handle challenges, one who practices rigor welcomes different perspectives and conflicting opinions, reflecting open-mindedness, flexibility, and adaptation. The most important aspect to these individuals lies in their ability to find approaches that best align with the shared workplace values. Their mental flexibility highlights curiosity’s role in a growth mindset: the emphasis on newness and the possibility to facilitate progress. As a result, the individual must be able to accept that failure and conflict are both inevitable and potential opportunities for improvement. While those practicing rigor still try to avoid failure, fear of it does not define their behaviors or prevent them from taking risks to uphold shared values. Analysis of Rigidity and Rigor: Three Perspectives Most individuals will, at points in their lives, experience both rigidity and rigor. It may be difficult for one to recognize their own rigidity or rigor without taking a step back for active reflection. In doing this self-analysis, it is most important to consider ongoing patterns and trends as well as changes that may benefit your current practice. Assessing Rigidity Rate yourself (High, Medium, or Low) on how frequently you notice the following behaviors in your life. The more these are a part of your normal routine, the more likely you may be experiencing rigid thinking or practices. __ Strong need to be “right” __ Resistance to change, even when change may be necessary __ Desire to have total control __ Tendency to choose low-risk over high-risk options __ Comfortability in old, familiar patterns __ Difficulty brainstorming new ideas or resistance to the new ideas others bring forward __ Strong desire to avoid any and all possibility of failure __ Intense reaction to real or perceived failure __ High focus on own individual performance __ Emotional reactivity in facing challenges (e.g., external, like shouting, or internal, lile negative self-talk) Assessing Rigor Rate yourself (High, Medium, or Low) on how frequently you notice the following behaviors in your life. Regular use of these behaviors is a good indication of a rigorous growth mindset. __ Encourage as well as actively seek out different perspectives __ Belief that failure and conflict can provide opportunities for improvement __ Active attempt to approach challenge with an open mind __ Curious exploration of conflicting opinions __ Comfortability with not having desired control or the greatest degree of control __ Emphasis on the team/group achievement over individual performance __ Comfortability with adaptation and change, especially in high-pressure situations __ Consideration of high-risk options as well as low-risk options __ Desire to seek out and brainstorm new ideas __ Ability to take failure seriously without reactivity (more intellectual than emotional) Reflection Questions: How can one turn rigid thinking into rigorous thinking? Being rigorous is hard and inherently risky, but true leadership requires us to avoid the temptation to rigidly follow rules. By knowing ourselves, being true to our values and beliefs (and those of the organizations we represent), and critically analyzing our behaviors using techniques like those described above, we can become the rigorous leaders our organizations need us to be while becoming the type of person people want to follow.
At the movies and on television, we all love heroes. As chaos reigns, the hero swoops in to save the day and restore order. Their heroics make for great entertainment, but heroics are lousy business. Any leader worth the name knows that heroics are bad news in the real world. The appearance of a hero always means that something has gone wrong. The degree of the heroics is often in direct proposition to the mess needing to be cleaned up. While we celebrate the work (and often the courage) of heroes, we know that their actions shouldn’t have been necessary.
What do Scottish kilts, machine gun ammunition, cement mixers, graves, and Queen Elizabeth II’s wedding dress all have in common? They are all purported to be tied to the origins of the expression “the whole nine yards.” I have heard and read emphatic declarations that the real origin is . . . you fill in the blank. According to the New York Times, which ran a story on this topic on December 26, there is no clear answer. (I guess it was a slow news day.) They went on to quote language expert Ben Zimmer, “The phrase is interesting because it’s so mysterious.” Whatever its origin, most people who are fluent in English know what it means. Since its meaning is clear and its origin is so muddled, it is probably a safe.
Every year in observance of the Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday, I read Dr. King’s I Have a Dream speech. It always moves me and forces me to think about life and leadership in a new way. Earlier today as I finished reading it, I began to contemplate my dreams for my life and career. Things have changed so much for me in the past five years, and so have my dreams. Having transformed myself from a corporate executive to an entrepreneur, I dream about how to better serve my clients and grow my business. As an executive coach, writer and speaker, I dream about changing the way people think about leadership. As the father of teenagers, I have begun to dream about my children as adults. These are some of my dreams. They are tightly coupled with my values and principles, and they serve me well. They help me keep my eye on the ball, but how well do they serve those I lead?